


Withdrawal Anxiety

by MechanicalMermaids



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 10:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalMermaids/pseuds/MechanicalMermaids
Summary: V's blood is a gift that keeps on giving. Sometimes he's so sure he can almost taste its smell in the air they breathe. Dante's brought to the very edge of sanity but ultimately brought back to earth by the knowledge that he would never kill such a fragile being out of his own greedy desire. Or so he keeps reminding himself.





	Withdrawal Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> H-hey *sweats nervously*
> 
> This one's for Beth also. Because she shares 50 percent of the blame in coming up with this idea.

1

It starts with a simple papercut. V's busy working at his desk, fingers sliding through papers to find the one manuscript that interests him a most, the one regarding his new job.  
Old books are harmless, their edges withered and soft and familiar the way humans never really are so V rather absentmindedly shuffles through the pages, eyes following the lines of text in his own spindly handwriting until unexpected edge pinpricks the tip of his finger. The pain hardly registers for the moment as his eyes widen and he draws the tattooed hand closer for inspection.  
There it is. Just a tiny, throbbing cut. A solitary drop of blood bubbles to the surface and slides down the curve of his finger and splatters onto the weathered yellow page, making a grotesque looking stain as though V has just signed the deal with a devil in his own blood.  
He marvels both at the cut and the stain for a second before his brows furrow at the mess and the unbelievably rare texts being fouled with his own blood before he decisively draws the finger into his own open mouth to alleviate the irritation.  
If only he managed to get this far.  
Someone snatched his wrist strongly and his tattoos send one, intoxicating pulse of power through his entire arm, betraying Dante's excitement at the moment, despite his rigid, steely posture. The room is silent, so V can hear his breath deepen behind him even though he dares not move nor react. Those are the kinds of deep breaths one takes at the body prepares for danger, the rush of adrenaline through blood, the anticipation of /something/ in the air.  
Dante follows the lines of the tattoos with his tongue, V feeling as though the tiny current of dark electricity was pulsing right through him and connecting them at this moment.  
Deep and reverberating strongly in his own blood with its beckoning call. Dark mass of electricity demanding to be brought up to the surface by Dante's tongue, conducting like a transistor of his saliva, leaving a wet, shiny trail on the skin marked with tattoos whose constant tingling at the tip of Dante's tongue is almost enough to convince him that he can understand its silent pleading.  
V's fingertips wriggle, feeling he's slowly losing feeling in his wrist because of Dante's rough treatment and another drop of blood threatens to slide down his fingertip. But before it can even reach the first knuckle, Dante makes a nearly inaudible gluttonous exhale, barely noticeable if V's wasn't so attuned to him already as his finger is hastily drawn into Dante's hot mouth with an audible wet sound, tongue curling serpentine around the finger and suckling.  
Dante reverently licks up the blood pooling from it as if not a drop can go to waste. As if V's blood and V himself were too precious.  
V still freezes, now sitting straight up with his back turned as his arm is being drawn up and cradled gently, despite the strong sucking motion dulling the pain momentarily.  
It is such an unexpected, intimate interaction that he dares not move in case he accidentally breaks the spell. Dante's demon side finding a break in Dante's defences to slither out from just like V's precious blood unexpectedly escaping his body.  
It ends as soon as his started, V's skin glistening with hot saliva mixing with diluted blood as Dante slowly, as though not to spook him guides his hand until it's removed from the hot cavern of his mouth. V can feel one last shakily drawn breath as a tiny shudder escapes him until a tender kiss is placed to his tattooed knuckles as though this tender little gesture has been Dante's intent from the very beginning and he is let go as door quietly click shut behind Dante, a little bit faster escape that could be expected from a regular human being.

2

V's blood is a gift that keeps on giving. Sometimes he's so sure he can almost taste its smell in the air they breathe. Dante's brought to the very edge of sanity but ultimately brought back to earth by the knowledge that he would never kill such a fragile being out of his own greedy desire. Or so he keeps reminding himself.

Dante's an altruistic creature. He wants to do things right, even though the evidence might convince otherwise and others will often accuse him of being flamboyant for the sake of acting dramatic and disregarding human lives for the sake of satisting the thrill of acting on his demonic nature. It is true. But it's also just means for an end.

So Dante would fancy himself altruistic or at least convinced that his concern has lain in the combined effort to keep people of Redgrave out of lurking's harm way. And to make sure no one would have caught a whiff of V's scent.

For V himself, was a rather adorable sentiment if not the one hard to keep under wraps sometimes.

Dante's overly cautious. It's for V's benefit supposedly but V sometimes cannot help but shake his head at Dante's eagerness to cling desperately to his human halve of nature as though terrified that his demon side would go against the rules he hailed his entire life. What could crawl out of the shadows and how close would it creep up to V before he extended his hand and petted the growling gnawing hunger that Dante has unleashed from underneath his human skin.

Humans with demonic essence in the blood usually end up corrupted and the taste of their blood fouls and sours as they slowly become... soulless. But V struck a perfect balance. A human heart with devil intentions. His blood is fully human with this strong, strong demonic essence to it. Someone could make a small fortune just draining him and selling his blood bottled up like drugs. But for now Dante revels in a fact that V is all but his and this drug is like his own, personal concoction.

Dante of course never says the words out loud. Those are forbidden, just like his demonic instincts unless they find their use in combat against their brethren. V personally finds it rather masochistic.

It's like one day he would decide to shun away from his familiars simply based on the fact that demonic was their nature and keep them trapped and restrained unless their aid in battle would be needed. He did not fear his familiars anymore as he did the first time he was fighting them on Mallet Island.

He has gained their trust since then, to the point where light and darkness blended in his mind and made no difference anymore. Those were human hearts that kept corrupting slumbering darkness and not the other way around.

So he kept writing away Dante's little agonized expressions, his reluctance to face the issue, hoping as always that if he ignored it hard enough, that if he proved himself to be a Good Human, his demonic nature would relent, acknowledge that it has been in the wrong this entire time and filthy and unwanted.

3

It's a simple mistake, a fumble on V's part. V's circumstances do make him unforgivably ungraceful at times.

The Scarecrow managed to get a jump on him just before Shadow has manifested herself in all of her glorious feline fury to dispose of the creature that dared hurt her master.

Still, the cut on his cheek throbbed and hurt to the point that V started asking himself if the blade was not perhaps poisoned.

Shadow, sensing his distress, fussed around him with quiet growls as she circled him in clear distress, tail wiggling and unrestful.

"It's alright. Just a small cut." V assured her, hand reaching out to stroke her midnight fur-not fur as she passed by, still grumbling and crimson eyes never leaving his but ultimately placated by the knowledge that V was out of harm's way for now.

The bloody lines felt crisscrossed and V sighed, deciding that ultimately there was no point in playing the victim and simply wiped away at the blood until it smeared the palm of his hand and it dulled to a sad throb of  pain.

Then he turned to Dante to assure him that there was nothing's amiss, only to see him staring at V with this look of utter hunger written all over his face.

He shivers with a sensation not unlike fear.  
Then he blinks. And Dante's eyes are not tinted crimson anymore.

*

"It's completely drained."

The aftermath of the battle ends up getting both of them a little bit winded, so V doesn't respond at first nor makes an inquiry as to what could suddenly ignite interest in Dante as he is usually hyperfocused on the bloodshed unravelling around him.

It's only when Dante makes more fretting sounds at the back of his throat that V decides to turn and sees his partner crouching in front one of the demons that they have most likely not slain just now.

Its skin is leathery and ashen dry as Dante pokes with his leather glove around its mouth area, jaws still open in some sort of parody of sick agony, eyelids puckered and closed.

It is certainly unusually drained of colour and as V silently approaches, cane clicking against the gore covered floor he discovers that Dante might be right. The corpse looks deflated and there are no traces of bodily fluids around there.

"You can't possibly be thinking this is the work of a Vampire." V inquires sardonically, both hands resting on the handle of his cane over the corpse.

Crouched over, Dante just shrugs, for all appearing as though he was slowly losing interest. A solitary demon with not a drop of blood found on them was certainly a strange sight but the trail appeared cold.

"It's just strange, that's all." Dante regains his usual nonchalance, getting up with a huff and ineffectively dusting off his coat from demon entrails "Thought you might have had something to say on the matter," He adds oh so casually.

So it did bother him. An inconsequential accident they happened to stumble upon. Dante was right however as it was V's field of work, so just to humour him this once he does consider the nature of this out of place assault.

It's usually how it goes between the two of them anyway.

Given the mess, they've just made its impossible to tell more clues than what is already presented right in front of their eyes.

The demon's carcass was either dragged there and left to die or was already dead during the process, or dragged here to be killed in which case V could not tell any more details, given that in a meantime the entire building has become a breeding ground for some other sneaky bastard and the mess of demon fetuses spilling onto the floor and dead meaty clutches hanging from the walls obscured the previous activities.

V suspected what was Dante's true cause for distress but decided not to voice it as it was the delicate matter between the two of them. So he settled for stating the obvious, lulling Dante's slumbering anxiety with honeyed words of obviousness.

"You are right. It has been drained. As for the cause, I am unsure." He admits with the slight furrow.

Saying he's uncertain has never come easy to V but he supposed it was for the better not to make up a pretty lie, in case Dante got a little bit too invested in this little mystery "As long as it's not a human, we are fine, though, are we not?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turns on his heel heading away from the carcass to encourage Dante to do the same.

The older hunter hesitates for the moment, V notices as he strokes his chin, gaze still fixated on the corpse as he finally says a little thoughtful "yeah." and follows.

V does not exactly forget about this little incident as he hardly ever does with anything of merit but eventually, Dante stops fretting and so does it stop occupying the back of V's mind.

He understands, of course. Dante worries about the safety of humans of Redgrave and even though he'd not say it to V's face - his own as well. It is, of course, an unneeded worry and rather annoying one at that but Dante is a demon and V his mate so it's not exactly easy to find logic in his behaviour sometimes.


End file.
